The tea was an infusion5 of tannin in the pot, and still the unregenerate male refused to return in time to save a second brew6. Betty Steel had tried one of the latest novels, and guessed the end before she had read ten pages; she was an admirer of the ultra-psychological school, and preferred their bloodless and intricate verbiage7 to the simpler and more human “cry.” Even her favorite fog philosopher could not keep her quiet in her chair. The desire for activity stirred in her; it was useless to sit still and court the mopes.
Betty Steel went up-stairs to her bedroom, looked through her jewel-box, folded up a couple of silk blouses in tissue paper, rearranged her hair, and found herself more bored than ever. After drifting about aimlessly for a while, she climbed to the second floor landing, and entered a room that looked out on St. Antonia’s and the square. A tall, brass-topped fender closed the fireless grate. There were pictures from the Christmas numbers of magazines upon the walls, and rows of old books and toys on the shelves beside the chimney. In one corner stood a bassinet hung with faded pink satin. The room seemed very gray and silent, as though it lacked something, and waited for the spark of life.
Mrs. Betty looked at the toys and books; they had belonged to her these twenty years, and she had thought to watch them torn and broken by a baby’s hands. Parker Steel’s wife had borne him no children. Strange, cultured egotist that she was, it had been a great grief to her, this barrenness, this sealing of the heart. Betty was woman enough despite her psychology9 to feel the instincts of the sex piteous within her. A mother in desire, she still kept the room as she had planned it after her marriage, and so spoken of it as “the nursery,” hoping yet to see it tenanted.
Feeling depressed and restless, she went to the window and looked out. Clouds that had been flushed with transient crimson11 in the east, were paling before the grayness of the approaching night. On the topmost branch of an elm-tree a thrush was singing gloriously, and the traceried windows of the church were flashing back the gold of the western sky.
Parker Steel’s wife saw something that made her lips tighten12 as she stood looking across the square. Two children were loitering on the footway, the boy rattling13 the railings with his stick, the girl tucking up a doll in a miniature mail-cart. They were waiting for a tall woman in a green coat, faced with white, who had stopped to speak to a laborer14 whose arm was in a sling15.
The boy ran back and began dragging at the woman’s hand.
“Mummy, mummy, come along, do.”
“Good-day, Wilson, I am so glad you are getting on well.”
The workman touched his cap, and watched Mrs. Murchison hustled16 away impulsively17 by her two children. The thrush had ceased singing, silenced by the clatter18 of Mr. Jack’s stick. Betty Steel was leaning against the shutter19 and watching the mother and her children with a feeling of bitter resentment20 in her heart. Even in her home-life this woman seemed to vanquish21 her. Catherine Murchison was taking her children’s hands, while Betty Steel stood alone in the darkening emptiness of the “nursery.”
Perhaps the rushing up of simpler, deeper impulses made her hurry from the room when she saw her husband’s carriage stop before the house. He was the one living thing that she could call her own, and this pale-faced and cynical22 woman felt very lonely for the moment and conscious of the dusk. Parker Steel had signalized his return by a savage23 slamming of the heavy door. Betty met him in the hall. She went and kissed him, and hung near him almost tenderly as she helped him off with his fur-lined coat.
“You poor thing, how late you are!”
Her husband growled24, as though he were in no mood for a woman’s fussing.
“I should like some tea.”
“Of course, dear; you look tired.”
“Hurry it up, I’m busy.”
And he marched into the dining-room, leaving Betty standing25 in the hall.
The warmer impulses of the moment flickered26 and died in the wife’s heart. Her eyes had been tender, her mouth soft, and even lovable. The slight shock of the man’s preoccupied27 coldness drove her back to the unemotional monotony of life. Husbands were unsympathetic creatures. She had read the fact in books as a girl, and had proved it long ago in the person of Parker Steel.
“What is the matter, dear, you look worried?”
Her husband was battering28 at the sulky fire as though the action relieved his feelings.
“Oh, nothing,” and he kept his back to her.
Mrs. Betty rang the bell for fresh tea.
“What a surly dog you are, Parker.”
“Surly!”
“Yes.”
“Confound it, can’t you see that I’m dead tired? You women always want to talk.”
Betty Steel looked at him curiously29, and spoke10 to the maid who was waiting at the door.
“I always know, Parker, when you have lost a patient,” she drawled, calmly, when the girl had gone.
“Who said anything about losing patients?”
“Have you quarrelled with old Pennington?”
“Well, if you must know,” and he snapped it out at her with a vicious grin; “I’ve made an infernal ass8 of myself over at Marley.”
His wife’s most saving virtue30 was that she rarely lost control either of her tongue or of her temper. She could on occasion display the discretion31 of an angel, and smile down a snub with a beatific32 simplicity33 that made her seem like a child out of a convent. She busied herself with making her husband’s tea, and chatted on general topics for fully34 three minutes before referring to the affair at Marley.
“You generally exaggerate your sins, Parker,” she said, cheerfully.
“Do I? Damn that Pennington woman and her humbugging hysterics.”
Mrs. Betty studied him keenly.
“Is Miss Julia really and truly ill for once?”
“I have just wired for Campbell of ‘Nathaniel’s’.”
“Indeed!”
“The idiot’s eyesight is in danger. Old Pennington got worried about her, and insisted on a consultation35.”
Betty cut her husband some cake.
“So you have sent for Campbell?”
“I had Murchison first.”
“Parker!”
“The fellow spotted36 the thing. I hadn’t even looked at the woman’s eyes. Nice for me, wasn’t it?”
Betty Steel’s face had changed in an instant, as though her husband had confessed bankruptcy37 or fraud. The sleek38 and complacent39 optimism vanished from her manner; her voice lost its drawl, and became sharp and almost fierce.
“What did Murchison do?”
“Do!” And Parker Steel laughed with an unpleasant twitching40 of the nostrils41. “Bluffed like a hero, and helped me through.”
Mrs. Betty’s bosom42 heaved.
“So you are at Murchison’s mercy?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Parker, I almost hate you.”
“My dear girl!”
“And that woman, of course he will tell her.”
“Who?”
“Kate Murchison.”
“No one ever accused Kate Murchison of being a gossip.”
“She will have the laugh of us, that is what makes me mad.”
Betty Steel pushed her chair back from the table, and went and leaned against the mantel-piece. She was white and furious, she who rarely showed her passions. All the vixen was awake in her, the spite of a proud woman who pictures the sneer43 on a rival’s face.
“Parker!” And her voice sounded hard and metallic44.
“Well, dear.”
“You love Murchison for this, I suppose?”
Steel gulped45 down his tea and laughed.
“Not much,” he confessed.
“Parker, we must remember this. Lie quiet a while, and take the fool’s kindnesses. Our turn will come some day.”
“My dear girl, what are you driving at?”
“The Murchisons are our enemies, Parker. I will show this Kate woman some day that her husband is not without a flaw.”
The great Sir Thomas Campbell arrived that night at Roxton, and was driven over to Marley in Steel’s brougham. The specialist confirmed the private practitioner’s diagnosis46, complimented him gracefully47 in Mr. Pennington’s presence, and elected to operate on the lady forthwith. Parker Steel’s mustache boasted a more jaunty49 twist when he returned home that night after driving Sir Thomas Campbell to the station. He had despatched a reliable nurse to attend to Miss Julia at Marley, and felt that his reputation was weathering the storm without the loss of a single twig50.
As for James Murchison, he kept his own council and said never a word. Even doctors are human, and Murchison remembered many a mild blunder of his own. He received a note in due course from Parker Steel, thanking him formally for services rendered, and informing him that the operation had been eminently51 successful. Murchison tore up the letter, and thought no more of the matter for many months. Work was pressing heavily on his shoulders with influenza52 and measles53 epidemic54 in the town, and he had his own “dragon of evil” to battle with in the secret arena55 of his heart.
Gossip is like the wind, every man or woman hears the sound thereof without troubling to discover whence it comes or whither it blows. The details of Miss Julia Pennington’s illness had been wafted56 half across the county in less than a week. Nothing seems to inspire the tongues of garrulous57 elderly ladies more than the particulars of some particular gory58 and luscious59 slashing60 of a fellow-creature’s flesh. Miss Pennington’s ordeal61 had been delicate and almost bloodless, but there were vague and dramatic mutterings in many Roxton side streets, and gusts62 of gossip whistling through many a keyhole.
It was at a “Church Restoration” conversazione at Canon Stensly’s that Mrs. Steel’s ears were first opened to the tittle-tattle of the town. The month was May, and the respectable and genteel Roxtonians had been turned loose in the Canon’s garden. Mrs. Betty chanced to be sitting under the shelter of a row of cypresses63, chatting to Miss Gerraty, a partisan64 of the Steel faction65, when she heard voices on the other side of the trees. The promenaders, whosoever they were, were discussing Miss Pennington’s illness, and the tenor66 of their remarks was not flattering to Parker Steel. Mrs. Betty reddened under her picture-hat. The thought was instant in her that Catherine Murchison had betrayed the truth, and set the tongues of Roxton wagging.
Half an hour later the two women met on the stretch of grass outside the drawing-room windows. A casual observer would have imagined them to be the most Christian67 and courteous68 of acquaintances. Mrs. Betty was smiling in her rival’s face, though her heart seethed69 like a mill-pool.
“What a lovely day! I always admire the Canon’s spring flowers. Did you absorb all that the architectural gentleman gave us with regard to the value of flying buttresses70 in resisting the outward thrust of the church roof?”
“I am afraid I did not listen.”
“Nor did I. Technical jargon71 always bores me. So we are to have a bazaar72; that is more to the point, so far as the frivolous73 element is concerned. I have not seen Dr. Murchison yet; is he with you?”
Catherine was looking at Mrs. Betty’s pale and refined face. She did not like the woman, but was much too warm-hearted to betray her feelings.
“No, my husband is too busy.”
“Of course. Measles in the slums, I hear. Is it true that you are taking an assistant.”
Catherine opened her eyes a little at the faint flavor of insolence74 in the speech.
“Yes, my husband finds the work too heavy.”
“I sympathize with you. Dr. Steel never would take club and dispensary work; not worth his while, you know; he is worked to death as it is. The curse of popularity, I tell him. How are the children? I hear the younger looks very frail75 and delicate.”
Mrs. Steel’s condescension76 was cunningly conveyed by her refined drawl. Catherine colored slightly, her pride repelled77 by the suave78 assumption of patronage79 Parker Steel’s wife adopted.
“Gwen is very well,” she said, curtly80.
“Ah, one hears so much gossip. Roxton is full of tattlers. I am often astonished by the strange tales I hear.”
She flashed a smiling yet eloquent81 look into her rival’s eyes, and was rewarded by the sudden rush of color that spread over Catherine Murchison’s face. Mrs. Betty exulted82 inwardly. The shaft83 had flown true, she thought, and had transfixed the conscience of the originator of the Pennington scandal.
“Please remember me to your husband, Mrs. Murchison,” and she passed on with a glitter of the eyes and a graceful48 lifting of the chin, feeling that she had challenged her rival and seen her quail84.
But Catherine was thinking of that frosty night in March when she had found her husband drink drugged in his study.
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收听单词发音
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1
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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infusion
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| n.灌输 | |
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brew
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| v.酿造，调制 | |
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verbiage
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| n.冗词；冗长 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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11
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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12
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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13
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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14
laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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15
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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16
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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18
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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19
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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20
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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21
vanquish
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| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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22
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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23
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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24
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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25
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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26
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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28
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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29
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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31
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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32
beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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33
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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34
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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35
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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36
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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37
bankruptcy
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| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
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38
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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39
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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40
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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41
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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42
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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43
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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44
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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45
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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46
diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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47
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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48
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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49
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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50
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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51
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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52
influenza
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| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
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53
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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54
epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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55
arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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56
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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58
gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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59
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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60
slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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61
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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62
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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63
cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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64
partisan
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| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
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65
faction
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| n.宗派，小集团；派别；派系斗争 | |
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66
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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67
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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68
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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69
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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70
buttresses
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| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
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71
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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72
bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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73
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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74
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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75
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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76
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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78
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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79
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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80
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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81
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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82
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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84
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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